Red Velvet
by MaidM
Summary: An unexpected twist of events when Draco's first child is born shows a side of him that has never been encountered. (PS, don't read this if you're a Draco fan) Written at age twelve and kept on for sentimental reasons. Read only if you are in the mood for


Disclaimers: don't own and not making money out of it.  
  
Notes: I know, angst. Oh well. Just so you know this is a stand alone so don't expect another chapter. I feel guilty when people write that they want another chapter.  
  
Pairings: Nothing really, some mentioning of Hermione/Ron but that's about it. I don't know who Draco's wife is. Just someone he met post-Hogwarts. Also, I do not believe any of the crap Draco talks about in this fic. I just wanted to show a new side of him. ***  
  
Draco leaned back on the blood red velvet of his favourite chair. It had been hours and his wife was still labouring in the upstairs room. How long could it take to give birth? It did not seem all that difficult. Not like working for Voldemort. At least his wife had always had warm meal and a clean house ready for him when he returned. She had become useless the months before her delivery though, and he had tired of having his elf prepare his meal. It tasted no different then his wife's own cooking but it was the sense of having his wife there to wait on him that made him smile. That was where women belonged. Far to many women had been coddled by their spouses. He recalled seeing Weasly with his woman, shopping for clothes and toys. He had reached his arms around her waist from behind while she held out a tiny garment to inspect, resting his hands on the curved bulge that protruded from her abdomen. He had buried his face in Hermione's neck and she had smiled with pleasure. It disgusted him how no man could keep his hands to himself in public.  
  
The midwife stepped out of the room and descended down the stairs. "Mr. Malfoy." She began, "Your wife has delivered the baby. She and the child are doing fine. It was a hard labour for her but she got through."  
  
The midwife smiled proudly as if it were she who had laboured for 12 hours to bring a child into the world. Draco was happy though. It would be hard to find a new wife if she had died, and what would he have done before he could? He shuddered thinking about it.  
  
"Would you like to come up and she her?" Malfoy shook his head.  
  
"Tell her to make herself presentable, then to report herself and the child to the lounge in 30 minutes." Draco checked his watch. Half an hour seemed acceptable.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy she has just given birth, she should be resting and." The midwife was cut short by Draco's raised hand.  
  
"You will do as I say." Draco gave the blustering midwife an icy cold stare then turned on his heels and exited the room.  
  
* * *  
  
Draco poured himself a cup of tea and leaned back in his chair again. Finally, after all these months, his wife had produced a child. He new there had to be purpose to the existence of women and now he knew what it was. Children. That was what women were for. He could think of no other reason. He signed contentedly. He finally had an heir to take his place when he was gone and serve his master.  
  
Just then, Draco's wife walked down the stairs. Her wet hair was combed and tied back in a sensible braid at the back of her neck. In her arms she carried the baby, wrapped in a red velvet blanket, sleeping peacefully. She looked down on the tiny face and smiled. She hoped with all her might that he wouldn't be mad at her.  
  
Draco stood when the two entered the room. No smiled curled his lips when he saw his child for the first time like normal father. He only nodded curtly.  
  
"S..s..sir," Draco's wife stammered in a minuscule voice.  
  
"Speak up!" Draco cut of the cowering girl.  
  
"Sir," She straightened herself and spook with renewed vigour. " I present to you your new daughter."  
  
She did not see the hand come flying across the air and slamming against her face. The once composed lady collapse on to her knees. Draco took the opportunity to wrench the child out of her sobbing mother's arms.  
  
"You useless piece of vermin!" Draco spat at his crumpled ball of a wife.  
  
"You can not even do the simplest task! I told you I needed an heir to succeed me and you go give me this!" He shook the child violently. The infant screamed and wailed louder than anything Draco had ever heard before. A son would never have been that loud. Draco held the crying girl as far from himself as he could.  
  
"We are getting rid of this as soon as we can. I'm sure my master will have use for her. Then you are going to try again until you produce a real child." Draco was now shacking with anger.  
  
"No." She did not shout the word but there was such power behind that it made Draco back up a step a step.  
  
"You are not going to hurt my child." The women stood up tremblingly looked him straight in the eye.  
  
"How dare you defy me! You could not live without me. And you won't." He pulled out his wand and pointed at the wet, tear streaked person in front of him. He expected her to back off. Beg him to forgive her. Grovel at his feet, but she did not.  
  
"Fine." Her eyes were as cold as stone. "Kill me. I'd rather die than see you hurt my baby."  
  
You should kill her. Draco thought to himself, but he couldn't. Couldn't bring himself to mutter the words that would end her life.  
  
"Go." Draco pointed with his wand to the exit of the imposing mansion. "And take this with you." He lay the baby with unexpected care into the bassinet that lay waiting, coated in thick red velvet.  
  
The child squirmed and wailed, clawing at the soft pile surrounding her. Draco swept his wand over the child and it stopped crying immediately. He bent his over the child and whispered the words that echoed in her mother's ears for the rest of her life, haunting the poor women's existence.  
  
"Do not think you have seen the last of me." With that Draco swept out of the room, his red velvet robe billowing behind him.  
  
The woman ran over to the silent child. Her face stared into her mother's. In her eyes was the look of pure fear. The mother leaned over the side of the bassinet and held her baby close to her body.  
  
"Don't worry my sweet, my baby girl." She cooed "Daddy isn't going to hurt you. I'll make sure of it."  
  
And with that, she took herself and the child into the rainy Midnight Street, locking the door soundlessly behind her. 


End file.
